To Ride Pegasus
by mchriste22
Summary: With Ripper!Stefan back in town, the Gilbert 'family' knows the only way to save him is to work together. Easier said than done. Spoilers through 3.05 "The Reckoning" and will stay in canon for the duration of the fic (hence the T rating). DE relationship emphasis with plenty of Dalaric/Deremy bromancing to go around.
1. Chapter 1

For Round One of the TVD Fic Exchange. Prompt (courtesy of **shipperjunkie**): _Elena+Jeremy+Damon+Alaric: An evening at the Gilberts set prior to 3x10. Ripper!Stefan's not invited but he might stop by. Extra credit if the story's told from Jeremy's perspective._

_AN: I get a big F for short stories, because even though I totally meant for this to be a one-shot, it's turned into a mutli-parter. This fic will stay in S3 canon for the duration. As always, all of the thanks and awards to my beta. _

To Ride Pegasus

Two days after Stefan tried to use Elena as his own personal blood bag, Damon stood on the steps of the Gilbert front porch, pissed off and contemplating murder. His brother had wasted no time in turning the house into a blood den and while normally Damon would have been all for it, the fact that the Ripper turned Stefan into the worst kind of drunken asshole took most of the fun out of it.

And he was ruining the goddamn rugs.

Valiantly trying to reign in his temper before he saw Elena, Damon took a breath and knocked on the front door. Within seconds, he heard the sound of approaching footsteps, breathing a sigh of relief when Jeremy opened the door.

Alaric was still harboring some animosity about the neck-snapping incident.

And given his current mood, snapping his best friend's neck for the third time just to avoid the anger in his judgy little eyes was a distinct possibility.

"Damon," the younger man said, a wary expression on his face as he glanced into the yard and scanned the street. Damon couldn't blame him for being a little edgy. The last time they'd hung out Jeremy had spent most of the time locked up in the trunk of Katherine's rental car. "What's going on?"

"Is Elena here?" he asked, taking Jeremy's slight step backwards as an invitation to enter. The question was pointless – he knew Elena was there. She'd barely left the house since Stefan had interrupted their _moment _when Damon had brought her home from the hospital.

"Yeah, she's upstairs," Jeremy nodded, his brow furrowing in concern. "Is something wrong?"

Damon narrowed his eyes. "Why would something be wrong?"

Jeremy lifted a shoulder. "You're not usually the bearer of good news."

Damon tipped his head in acknowledgement of that fact, smirking as the human shut the door and leaned against it, crossing his arms and raising a brow in expectation. Reaching into his pocket, Damon pulled out a small, velvet drawstring pouch. "Today is an exception," he revealed, dangling it in front of the younger man.

"What is that?" Jeremy asked, reaching for the bag.

"Protection charm," Damon said, snatching his arm back before the younger man could touch it. Eyeing the innocuous black pouch skeptically, he added. "At least that's what Bonnie says. It's supposed to keep out anyone who isn't acting of their own free will."

"So, what like…" Jeremy paused, working through the implications of Damon's words before his brow cleared and he smiled. "Stefan. You think that will keep him out of the house because Klaus compelled him?"

"That's what I'm hoping," Damon nodded, scanning the entryway for a good place to secure the charm. Bonnie had said that it would work best near a door, but as long as it was in the house his brother couldn't be. Stefan had sworn he wouldn't hurt Elena – that because of Klaus's compulsion he couldn't – but Damon wasn't willing to bet her life on the word of his Ripper brother and the hybrid. The compulsion wouldn't prevent Stefan from being a complete dick and tormenting her – at least her home could be a safe haven.

Wedging the drawstring between the wall and the upper corner of the doorframe, Damon waved Jeremy out of the way before forcefully opening and closing the door, utilizing enough of his vampiric strength to make the house shake.

"That should do it," he said, nodding once with satisfaction as the charm stayed put. "Just don't-."

"What the hell are you doing here, Damon?" Alaric demanded, entering the hallway from the kitchen.

Rolling his eyes, Damon sighed heavily before turning around to face his momentarily estranged friend. "Ric," he said, offering the man a tight-lipped smile. "Nice to see you, too."

"Damon brought over a protection charm," Jeremy explained, pointing toward the inconspicuous velvet bag tucked up into the doorframe. "To keep Stefan out."

"Huh," Alaric's gaze flicked toward the charm for a split second before returning to glare at Damon. "Too bad it won't keep you out."

"Aren't we melodramatic," Damon drawled, heading for the stairs. If he wanted abuse, he could have stayed home with Stefan.

"Where are you going?"

The vampire groaned, stopping halfway up the stairs and turning around. "What are you, the hall monitor?" he demanded, bracing his hands on the railing as he glowered down at the teacher. "I'm going to talk to Elena."

"She's had enough of vampires for awhile," Alaric declared, his eyes flashing with anger as he approached the foot of the stairs. "I think you should leave."

"And _I_ think that the last time that I took your advice, Elena ended up in the fucking hospital," Damon retorted, keeping his town light as he mentally debated the merits of snapping Alaric's neck again. "So, I'm done listening to your suggestions."

Ignoring the wide-eyed look on Jeremy's face as his gaze skipped between him and Alaric, Damon turned around, blurring up the rest of the stairs to Elena's room. The teacher could be pissed at him for causing his temporary death – even though Damon had _obviously_ checked to make sure that he was wearing his damn eternity ring – but Alaric could go fuck himself when it came to Elena.

Senior Prank Night had proven that the only person Damon could trust to keep her alive and safe was himself.

Approaching the closed door, he listened intently for any sound of life inside, but all he heard was silence. Knocking once, he waited a few long moments before knocking again and twisting the doorknob, calling out softly. "Elena?"

The curtains were drawn against the late afternoon sun, cloaking the bedroom in shadow. He blinked as his eyes adjusted to the lack of light, his gaze drawn immediately toward the vanity where Elena sat, staring listlessly at her reflection in the mirror.

_Mirror, mirror, _Damon thought as he eased into the room, watching her sweep her hair over her shoulder to expose the smooth column of her throat. The usual surge of emotion he felt every time he saw her soured at the sight of the twin bite marks – angry and red even in the low light. She probed the swollen wound with trembling fingers, wincing at the slight contact and jerking her hand away as her eyes filled with tears. Clenching his jaw, Damon grappled with the swell of murderous rage.

He wanted to fucking _kill _Stefan.

"Elena," he said quietly, not wanting to scare her. She jumped like a frightened kitten anyway, twisting around in her seat as she frantically rearranged her hair to hide the bite marks.

"Damon," she said, blinking furiously to banish the tears. "What are you doing here?"

"I came by to see a friend," he said, leaving the door open a crack as he made his way to the foot of her bed and sank to the mattress.

Clearing her throat, she swallowed. "I thought Ric wasn't speaking to you."

He smirked. "I was talking about you."

"Oh," she replied, her cheeks turning pink in the low light as she offered him a small smile. "Sorry, I'm a little slow. I haven't been sleeping well."

_I can't imagine why, _he thought as he watched her wrap a hair tie around her finger so tightly that the tip turned white. She probably wasn't sleeping at all. As usual, she was doing everything she could to keep it together and, as usual, it brought out latent, protective instincts from deep within him that seemed to be reserved for her and her alone. He wanted to wrap his arms around her and shield her from the world – not just Klaus and Stefan, but every stupid, annoying _thing _that threatened her happiness.

Of course, _he _was the thing that threatened her happiness a good chunk of the time and the irony of _that _was not lost on him.

"I brought you something that should help you sleep," Damon revealed, leaning forward to brace his elbows on his knees as he filled her in on the details of the protection charm. Elena's eyes grew wide and the lines of stress around her eyes and mouth began to recede.

"So, it'll keep Stefan out?" she asked eagerly, gripping the edge of the vanity seat with both hands as she leaned closer to him until they were separated by only a foot of space, like two conspirators hashing out a master plan. "Even though he's already been invited in?"

"That's what Bonnie tells me," Damon said, nodding in the affirmative. Elena's shoulders slumped with relief as she leaned back against edge of the vanity.

"I can't believe you went to Bonnie," she said after a moment of comfortable silence.

"Is there another witch in town that I don't know about?" he countered, raising a brow.

Elena shook her head, smiling as she briefly lowered her gaze. "Thank you."

"Yeah, well it was either the charm or move in here," Damon shrugged, deciding not to admit that if Bonnie had come up empty he would have been spending his nights for the foreseeable future either on her roof or tucked up into the tree outside of her bedroom window. "And like you said, I'm not Ric's favorite person right now. Breakfast would have been awkward."

Chuckling, Elena absently tucked her hair behind her ear, inadvertently baring the bite marks on her neck. Every instinct he had warned Damon against bringing it up – he didn't want to ruin the moment or watch the soft smile on her lips fade away – but his gaze was drawn to the wound and he had to know. "How are you?"

He cursed himself immediately for opening his mouth as Elena's good mood faltered. "I'm fine," she said automatically, avoiding his eye as she curled her fingers into fists. Her eyes began filling with tears at an alarming rate, revealing just how tightly she was clinging to control and how close she was to an emotional breakdown.

"Are you sure?" he asked, prying where he otherwise wouldn't have because he still felt like shit for leaving her. There was no way for him to know how things migh have been different had he stayed in town, and that uncertainty was eating him alive, along with his guilt. Moving forward on the bed, he inched closer to her. "Elena."

Pressing her lips together into a hard line, she looked toward the ceiling and swallowed. "It…um…really hurts," she finally revealed in a small voice that was beginning to break. "I didn't expect it to hurt so much. Isn't that stupid? I mean, it's a vampire bite, of course it…it hurts."

_Fuck, _Damon swore, closing his eyes in frustration. There were ways to be careful, to make a bite next to painless and heal clean, but of course his Ripper brother hadn't bothered to show the supposed love of his life even _that _small consideration when he'd torn into her vein. Helplessly, he ran a hand through his hair. "I'm sor-."

"Do you think it's going to scar?" she asked as the first tear slipped down her cheek.

"I don't…know," he answered honestly before rising from the bed in a sudden burst of inspiration. Damon couldn't undo what Stefan had done, but he could erase the evidence. Shoving up his sleeve he bared his wrist. "Take some of my blood. It'll heal the bite, take away the pain-."

"No," Elena cried, leaping skittishly to her feet and backing away from him toward the window as she shook her head vehemently. "No, Damon. No more blood, no more biting, please. I don't...I can't-."

"Okay," he replied, holding up his hands in acquiescence as he gave her some space. "Okay. No blood, Elena. It was just an idea."

She nodded jerkily, her breathing heavy as she shifted her weight from foot to foot and wiped away the tears that continued to fall relentlessly down her cheeks. Her mouth worked soundlessly, opening and closing on phantom syllables until finally he could make out words.

"Why?" she asked, running both hands through her hair as she paced, her breaths coming in tortured gasps as her chest heaved. "Why did he do this? I know that he was compelled, but why couldn't he fight it? Why couldn't he stop? How could Stefan…how could he…," she stopped directly in front of Damon, gazing at him through lashes clumped with tears. "How could he do this to me?"

He had a second to flounder for an answer as his heart broke for her before her shoulders began to shake and she half-leaned, half collapsed into him, burying her face into his shoulder. Slowly, he wrapped an arm around her waist as she sobbed against his chest, her hands curling into fists around the fabric of his shirt. In a way, he'd been waiting for this moment, knowing that at some point, Elena had to snap and release the reservoir of emotions that had been hiding behind the impenetrable dam she'd built around herself.

He just hadn't expected her to let him see it.

Smoothing a hand down the back of her head, he held her silently – because no words of comfort would ever take away the pain of Stefan's betrayal – as she burned through months of fears, disappointments and frustrations, clinging to him like she'd never let go. He tried not to read too much into it as he tightened his hold on her, the heat from her body bleeding through her clothes and sinking into his skin.

As Elena's sobs continued, Damon's hatred for his brother intensified. He couldn't fathom a compulsion strong enough to make him hurt the woman he was holding in his arms. He would have staked himself first, ripped off his ring and walked into the sun – Damon would have done whatever it took, endured any kind of torment, just to keep a smile on Elena's face.

He sure as hell wouldn't have thrown his life away to save Stefan.

_Why am I trying so hard to save him?_

Damon had asked himself that question countless times over the past few months and each time it took him longer to remember the various reasons. Standing in Elena's bedroom with her trembling form locked securely in his arms, he couldn't think of a single one. Fuck Stefan, if he didn't want this girl, if she wasn't the reason his brother got out of bed every goddamn day, then he didn't deserve her.

_I was wrong, _Damon thought, rubbing his cheek against Elena's crown, breathing in her scent. He'd been wrong that night when he'd told her he loved her and compelled her to forget. The truth of the matter was, neither of them deserved her, but at least Damon wasn't trying to rip her throat out and hand her over to an Original who wanted to bleed her dry.

Elena shifted in his arms, yanking Damon out of his introspection as her nose brushed against the sensitive skin of his throat. Her sobbing began to taper off, turning into soft sniffles and short, breathy gasps as she uncurled her fists and flattened her palm against his chest. Despite the fact that they were connected from head to foot, his entire being zeroed in on that spot, noting every minute change in pressure as she laid her cheek against his shoulder.

Lowering his head, Damon met her teary, bloodshot gaze just as she was lifting hers and decided then and there that she was the most beautiful thing he'd ever seen. Brushing her hair away from her face, he cupped her cheek, sweeping his thumb over the smooth skin and wiping away the tears. She stared at him, her breath whispering over his lips as his lungs seized up in his chest. Lifting her chin, she brought them closer, her gaze drifting south and it seemed like the most natural thing in the world for him to meet her halfway.

"Damon," she whispered, squeezing her eyes shut and shaking her head, her mouth mere centimeters from his. "Stop."

Instantly, he could breathe again. Blinking, he snapped out of his trance as cold, stark reality doused the desire burning within him.

"I-I'm sorry," Elena stammered, placing her palms against his chest and pushing out of his arms. "I'm sorry, I shouldn't be doing this, I…I can't. It's not fair."

Clenching his teeth, Damon closed his eyes briefly, curling his hands into fists as he kicked himself for falling into the old, familiar trap. "What's not fair?" he demanded, his voice low and angry.

"Leaning on you like this," she replied, scrubbing at her wet cheeks with the long sleeves of her t-shirt before dragging her fingers through the tangled knots of her long hair. "It's not fair to you or to me or to Stef-."

"Don't," Damon said, swallowing hard as he held back the string of profanity he wanted to unleash. He didn't want to hear his brother's name or how Elena still loved him even after everything he'd done to her.

"I'm sorry," Elena said miserably, covering her face with her hands and twisting his heart. He scowled, shaking his head slightly as he looked away from her, his gaze landing on the vanity mirror and the pictures taped around the edges – snapshots of her and Jeremy as kids, Caroline and Bonnie and Matt, her parents and…

Her and Stefan.

Damon stared at his brother's smiling face as his world shifted back onto its axis and he remembered why he'd spent the last few months moving heaven and earth to pull Stefan back from the bloodlust that had taken him over. It hadn't just been for Elena – although if anyone asked, she was the reason he gave – it had also been for him. Stefan needed him, needed him to be the big brother and there were some family ties – some bonds of blood – that Damon simply couldn't shake.

No matter how badly he wanted to smash his brother's face into a wall.

Blowing out a breath, he turned his attention back to Elena, grabbing her arm as she paced by him in agitation. "Hey. _Hey,"_ he said, commanding her attention. Holding her gaze, he raised his brow. "Don't worry about it."

"How can I not?" she asked, incredulously.

"Contrary to what just happened, I'm not an idiot," Damon said, mentally reeling in all of the feelings he had for her and locking them away where they wouldn't get him into trouble. Elena didn't love him – Stefan's descent into the dark side had changed almost everything, but he knew that it hadn't changed _that_.

Even if he sometimes forgot it in the heat of an emotional breakdown.

Elena clearly needed him, however, and he needed her. Without her determination and unwavering hope, he would have given up on Stefan a dozen times by now and despite all outward signs, Damon _needed _to pull his brother back from the abyss.

He needed to balance the scales.

Offering her a tight-lipped smile, he shrugged. "I know what this is."

Elena bit her already swollen bottom lip, making him seriously doubt his convictions, as she shook her head. "I'm sorry, Damon."

"Enough of that," he declared, deciding that if he heard her apologize one more time for being fucking human, he'd dive out of the window and take a month-long vacation. "You don't need to apologize, Elena, we just need…a ceasefire."

"A what?" Elena frowned, pinning him with her confused gaze.

"A truce," he clarified, smirking at the way she continued to stare at him blankly. "Look, we're a good team, so we keep doing what we've been doing. Working together," he continued, each word easing the ache in his chest. "We save Stefan and the rest…"

"What about the _rest_, Damon?" she asked, gazing up at him with such hope and trust that he almost felt like an ass for trying to kiss her.

Almost.

Damon took a deep breath and swallowed. The _rest – _the way Elena couldn't keep her eyes off of his mouth, the way her heart started pounding when he got close, racing when he touched her, the way she looked to him for guidance, a path, a plan...

The way they _laughed_.

The _rest _was going to fucking kill him, but he'd have to deal with it. "The rest can wait until Stefan's back and able to fend for himself," Damon answered, pulling Elena closer to him and giving into the urge to touch her. Tucking a finger under her chin, he raised a brow. "If I'm going to get the girl, it's not going to be by default."

"Damon," Elena blushed as she looked away, hemming and hawing for several seconds before she met his eye again. Her voice was thick with skepticism as she asked. "Do you really think it will be that easy?"

"Of course," he lied, laying on the exaggerated confidence thick. Nothing with Elena was ever easy and forgetting that he loved her – even if it was only for a little while – would be damn near impossible.

"Okay," she said, nodding to herself as if she'd arrived at some unspoken decision. "A ceasefire." Hesitating only a second, she rose up on her toes and wrapped her arms around him. Her breath whispered over his skin, making the hair stand up on the back of his neck as she added a soft, "Thank you."

"No problem," Damon said, slowly returning the embrace as Elena once again overwhelmed his senses. He closed his eyes as her scent swirled around him, knowing that he'd be able to smell her on his clothes even after he washed them.

_Ceasefire my ass, _he thought with a rueful grin. He was fucking screwed.


	2. Chapter 2

_AN: O.M.G. Does anyone remember this? I don't blame you if you've forgotten. My beta and I have been woefully distracted and somehow nearly a month has passed since I posted the first part. Poor shipperjunkie. She probably thinks that I hate her or something. Truth be told, the show has just been so freaking good that while I've been totally inspired to be all about TVD ALL OF THE TIME, I haven't been as motivated to write. _

_A couple of people wondered why I was writing about stuff that has already happened and I wanted to address that. As I mentioned, this fic is in response to a prompt, so the short answer is that I'm writing this because someone asked me to and I agreed. The longer answer is that I really enjoyed this time frame of S3 and due to the constraints of writing for a quickly moving show, the Damon/Elena/Jeremy/Alaric dynamic wasn't explored as much as I would have liked. It's not a sweeping epic like SIW or DaCP, so if that's what you're looking for, I'll tell you right now that you won't find it in this fic. What you will find - I hope - is some fun 'between ep' moments with the Saltzbert family. _

_Although, full disclosure, this part has more Delena and less...anyone else. _

_Enjoy!_

Part 2

Lying in bed, and wide awake, Elena contemplated the day she'd had as she stared at the ceiling. She'd lied to Damon about how drunk she was – she hadn't been faking _most _of it, she'd been faking _some_ of it – apparently a deceptively small _some _now that the adrenaline of the night had worn off. Feeling simultaneously wired and exhausted, she heaved a sigh of frustration as she lamented the fact that she'd long since passed the point of falling into a beer induced slumber.

Rolling onto her side, she slipped a hand beneath her cheek as she stared out of her window. The moon was out, high and bright, casting branch-shaped shadows across her bedroom floor as it shone through the trees. She needed to sleep. She hadn't been getting enough in the past few months and she couldn't afford to spend the day in bed like she'd done over the summer. She'd be damned if she let Stefan ruin her senior year of high school like he'd done the past three months of her life.

The thought of her estranged boyfriend made her stomach flip with a combination of longing, regret and euphoria. She'd staked him, driven a piece of wood straight into his gut with all of the strength she could muster. Admittedly, a small part of her felt awful about it. No matter what horrible things Stefan said or did, when Elena looked at him, she still saw the boy who'd helped her find a reason to live after losing her parents – the boy she'd fallen in love with and missed so much it caused her physical pain.

At the moment, however, the overwhelming exhilaration of standing up for and defending herself overshadowed everything else, making her smile despite the guilt.

That asshole had deserved it.

Her cell phone buzzed on her nightstand, prompting her to roll over and reach across the mattress. Picking up the device, she stared as Damon's name flashed on the screen and her stomach flipped again – this time with giddy anticipation as a series of conflicting thoughts ran through her head.

She was glad he'd called.

She wasn't sure if she should answer.

She was pretty sure she'd been ready to kiss him that night.

She _really _shouldn't answer.

_Ceasefire, _she thought, repeating the mantra as she tapped the touch screen and brought the phone to her ear. They'd declared a truce. They were friends, a team working together to save Stefan. There was no reason not to answer – and it could be something important.

"Hey," Elena said calmly, struggling to keep the excitement from her tone as she rolled onto her back.

"Hey yourself," Damon replied, his voice low and relaxed, making her shiver as it smoothed down her spine. "What the hell are you doing up?"

"What do you mean 'what am I doing up?' You _called _me," she said, shaking her head as she grinned up at the ceiling and twirled a piece of hair around her finger. "Didn't you expect me to be up?"

"You have school in the morning," he said before heaving a sigh. "And you had a busy day, what with all of the trap setting for Stefan, the falling off of bleachers, the almost getting barbecued…the staking of vampires."

Elena felt her cheeks flush as she caught the unmistakable pride in his words. "How is he?"

"Stefan? Last I saw him, he was still pulling splinters out of the hole in his gut," Damon said, chuckling into the phone and making the hairs on the back of her neck stand on end. "Nice work."

"I had a good teacher," she said, cringing at the flirtatious note that entered her tone. Flirting was _not _part of the truce.

"That's true," he agreed. "You learned from the best."

"I was talking about Ric," Elena retorted, eager to throw him off of his game.

"Of course you were," Damon replied smoothly as she bit back a groan of defeat.

"God," she muttered, rolling onto her side again as she shifted her grip on the phone. "Why did you call, Damon?"

"Do I need a reason?"

"Well, as you pointed out, I _do _have school in the morning," she said, playing with a loose string on her pillowcase. "And you're not really one for random chatting, so…what's up?"

Silence fell over the line and Elena found herself straining to catch the sound of his breathing – a ridiculous endeavor considering Damon didn't _need_ to breathe. Just as she was about to prompt him to speak, he cleared his throat.

"I wanted to make sure that you were okay," he answered, suddenly serious. Elena stopped fiddling with the string, tightening her grip on the phone as the tone of the conversation shifted. "Even though _I_ find staking Stefan incredibly cathartic, I was…concerned about how you'd feel about it."

A smile tugged at her lips. "You were?"

"Don't take it too personally," he warned. "I just want to know if I need to look for a new partner in crime or if you're going to be okay."

"I'm fine, Damon," Elena assured him, the smile on her lips turning into a grin. "It actually _was_ cathartic and I…" A car drove by and took the corner too fast, the sound of squealing tires carrying simultaneously through her open window and…

Over the phone.

Frowning, Elena stared at her cell as she sat up in bed before bringing it back to her ear. "Damon are you…are you here?"

"Is that an existential question? Are any of us here?"

Scoffing, she climbed out of the bed and crossed the carpet in her stocking feet to the window seat. "No, you idiot, are you _here?_" she asked again, pulling the curtains back from the windows. "As in at my house."

"Ah," he replied, falling silent as she peered into the moonlit yard below. There was no sign of him or the Camaro, but the miles between her house and the Salvatore's meant nothing to a vampire running at super speed.

"Damon?"

"I might be nearby," he admitted as she crawled onto the cushioned seat to get a better view.

"Where?" she demanded, feeling like a moron as she stared into the branches of the huge tree outside of her window. "Damon, where-Holy shit!"

Clamping a hand over her mouth, Elena dropped her phone and leapt off of the window seat as Damon suddenly appeared, hanging upside down from her roof. Her eyes widened as he chuckled, the smirk on his face just as smug and annoying as ever.

"What the hell are you doing on my roof?" she demanded.

He shrugged. "Boredom and rooftops go together like wine and cake."

"Damon!" she cried, crossing her arms over her breasts, suddenly very self-conscious about the fact that she was wearing a cami and a pair of skimpy boy shorts as pajamas. "What does that even _mean? _Are you drunk?"

"Maybe," he admitted, grabbing the edge of the window frame and swinging gracefully into her room. Startled by the sudden movement, she took a few steps backwards as he landed silently on the carpet in front of her – the move so vampiric, so _other, _that it took her breath away. Acutely aware of her pounding heart, she did her best to remain outwardly cool as he raked his gaze over her from head to toe. "You should come up there with me."

"You want me to climb onto the roof with you while you're wasted?" she demanded prissily, scrambling internally to regain her footing. "Dream on."

"Please," Damon replied, rolling his eyes and doing her the favor of keeping his gaze above her waist. "I could be three bottles deep in bourbon and still have quicker reflexes than any sober human." Nodding toward the window he gave her a cajoling grin. "Come on. I'm up. You're up. Let's go be _up_ together."

Glancing out of her window, Elena's heart began to race as she considered the offer. She wanted to – no question or doubt there – but she knew she shouldn't. She had school in the morning and Damon was drunk and _she _was drunk and she'd spent way too much time that night thinking about what it would be like to kiss him. Going up onto that roof would be dangerous, would threaten their ceasefire. The smart thing – the _safe _thing – would be to say goodnight and usher him out of the door…or in this case out of the window.

But goddammit, she really, really wanted to.

And she was tired of being smart and safe.

_Fuck it._

"Okay," she said with a nod, shifting her gaze back to Damon and grinning at the brief, but distinct flash of surprise that flitted across his features.

"Seriously?" he asked as she moved to her dresser, opening the top drawer and grabbing a pair of yoga pants.

"Seriously," Elena repeated, glancing over her shoulder and smiling as she pulled them on. She wanted to be fun – to _have _fun and be crazy. She was barely eighteen after all, and fun and crazy, hell even stupid, were requirements for a barely eighteen-year-old. For five minutes she wanted to be Elena Gilbert, high school senior instead of Elena Gilbert, supernatural doppelganger. Grabbing a hair tie off of her vanity, she crossed back to the window, practically skipping in anticipation and excitement. "Do I need shoes?"

"We're not going hiking," he retorted, but the pleased expression on his face was impossible to ignore. Joining Damon on the cushioned seat, she knelt beside him as she twisted her hair up into a messy knot on top of her head.

"How are we going to do this?" Elena asked, surprised by the breathless catch in her voice as Damon pushed the window open as wide as it would go.

He looked her over again before shrugging. "I'll climb back up and then I'll pull you up."

"You're not going to drop me, are you?" she asked, worrying her lip as she cast a nervous glance toward the ground. He snorted derisively, leaving her to protest. "What? Like you said, I already got barbequed tonight, I don't want to add broken bones to the list."

Giving her a slow, sidelong glance, Damon blurred out of sight before she could blink and less than a second later, a strong hand grabbed her by the forearm and hauled her out of her window. In an instant, she was sitting on her roof, clutching Damon's arm for dear life as she gazed up at a canopy of stars.

"Oh my god," she murmured, her eyes wide as she met his. A smile broke over her features as her entire body buzzed from the adrenaline flowing through her veins. "How did you…That was amazing."

"Perks of being a vampire," Damon shrugged as Elena released his arm and gingerly adjusted her position on the gently sloping roof. Bringing her knees to her chest, she wrapped her arms around her legs, pressing her toes against the shingles as she took in the view. It was better than she'd imagined – roofs and treetops all the way to the horizon with the nearly full moon glowing brightly in the star-studded sky.

"You were right," she murmured as he rummaged through his jacket, pulling out a flask from the inner pocket. "Wine and cake."

Glancing at him from the corner of her eye, she caught his smirk as he unscrewed the cap with a few deft flicks of his fingers and took a long pull from the contents inside. Swallowing, he raised a brow in question as he offered her the flask.

Fighting a smile, Elena accepted it, examining it carefully before bringing it to her nose and sniffing at the contents. The scent of bourbon burned her nose and she took a quick gulp before she had a chance to change her mind. Over the summer she'd grown more accustomed to drinking hard liquor, but schooling her features while the alcohol set her insides on fire was still a challenge.

And there was no way she was going to let Damon see her squirm.

She passed the flask back without looking, the alcohol warming her from the inside as she took in the view. For the past eighteen years, she'd watched the world from her window seat not six feel below – she'd thought that she knew what her hometown looked like – but now, from the roof, it was like being in a different world.

The trees hid the streets below, covering the sights and muffling the sounds of civilization. Moonlight played off of the leaves, turning them from green to silver all the way to the horizon. Here and there a rooftop broke through the canopy, challenging the trees' dominance over the skyline. Elena narrowed her eyes, identifying the spire of the church she'd sporadically attended with her parents growing up. Farther away, she picked out the gothic central tower of the county courthouse. Leaning forward, she noted the rooftops of landmarks she'd known all of her life – the water tower, the Lockwood estate, the old radio tower she, Matt and Jeremy used to dare each other to climb when they were little – marveling at the new perspective.

Rocking forward even further, she cocked her head, staring intently at the curve of the horizon. "I think I can see your house-Oh, shit!"

She pitched forward as her foot slipped off of the shingles, her leg shooting out into the empty air. For a terrifying second, all she could see was the hard ground thirty feet below before Damon grabbed her upper arm.

"Jesus, Elena!" he cried, yanking her away from the edge of the roof with so much force that she crashed into his chest. "Are you trying to fucking kill yourself?"

"No, I…"she gasped, trailing off as her heart hammered against her ribs. "I was just trying to find your house."

"I know where my house is," Damon retorted, loosening his death grip on her arm and wrapping his other arm around her, pulling her impossibly closer. Suddenly, she was acutely aware of every place that he was touching her. "Trust me, it was there when I left."

Elena scowled, the heat from his body bleeding into hers in a way that she liked far too much. "You're so literal," she muttered in irritation and embarrassment, trying to pull away, but his grip on her waist wouldn't let her go far. "Damon."

He raised a brow. "If I let you go, are you going to sit still and behave?"

"Behave?" she replied, bristling at the teasing gleam in his eye. "I'm not four."

Damon returned her gaze impassively, tightening his hold as she struggled. Finally, heaving a sigh, she rolled her eyes. "Fine. I'll _behave._" He released her so quickly that she almost slipped again before planting her hands on either side of her hips.

"I swear, I don't know how the Gilbert's survived the 1800s," Damon muttered as he took another sip from the flask.

"Excuse me?" she demanded, shooting him a scathing glance.

"This accident prone, klutzy trouble magnet thing you've got going on," he replied, waving a hand at her dismissively as he leaned back on his elbows. "I think it's in your genes."

"What are you talking about?" she asked, feeling the effects of the bourbon as she leaned heavily back on her elbow next to him and propped her head onto her fist. Suddenly, her eyes widened in understanding. "You're talking about my ancestors. Are you going to tell me a story?"

"A story?" Damon glanced at her, making a face. "You _are_ four."

"Whatever," she replied, her irritation forgotten as she poked his bicep with her index finger. "Tell me a story about 1864."

"No, 1864 sucked," he argued, shaking his head resolutely as he stared at the sky.

"Damon," she whined, sticking out her lower lip in a mock pout as she continued to poke him.

"Ow, fine," he grimaced, grabbing her hand before she could poke him again and hanging on, curling his fingers around hers. Elena started, staring at their joined hands and unable to look away as he fell silent for a moment before beginning to speak. "When I was growing up, Jonathan Gilbert was notorious. Everyone thought he was nuts. He was always trying to invent things and nearly killing himself in the process."

"I know all that," Elena murmured, distracted by the rough warmth of his skin. "I thought Emily Bennett just spelled everything for him."

"Well, yeah, she did," Damon allowed. "At least the vampire stuff. But he tried to invent other things, too. It was always something. He turned one of his barns into some kind of laboratory and whenever you saw him in town, he had his head buried in one of his journals. He was constantly walking into posts and tripping up stairs or into water troughs."

Snickering at the mental image, Elena lifted her head to look at him. "Water troughs?"

"I swear," he insisted, shifting his gaze to look at her as a genuine grin curved his lips. "The first time I saw a Buster Keaton film, I figured he was a vampire and had been in Mystic Falls because he had Jonathan Gilbert down to perfection. And it wasn't just him. The entire Gilbert clan was a walking disaster. Their horses threw shoes at five times the rate of everyone else's and at least one building on their property burned down every year. Every time there was a town gathering – which was just as often back then as it is now, by the way – someone's arm was in a sling or they were hobbling along with a crutch and there was always a ridiculous story that went along with the injury. Like, they'd been out picking berries, stumbled across a hornet's nest and fell into a ravine trying to get away."

"You are making that up," she insisted.

"No, I'm not. That actually happened to Jonathan's brother, I think," he turned his head to look at her better, shaking his head as he rubbed his thumb over her knuckles. "I'm telling you, it's a goddamn miracle you were even born, Elena Gilbert."

"Is that a fact?" she laughed, a pure sound of genuine amusement and pleasure as she held Damon's gaze.

"Yes, it is," he nodded, propping an arm behind his head as he laid back, making himself more comfortable. "A very fortunate miracle."

And just that quickly, the atmosphere changed.

Elena bit her lip as she held his gaze, her smile gradually fading in the contemplative silence. _I love this, _she thought, struck by a sudden longing ache in her chest and the urge to curl up against his side, lay her head on his shoulder and beg him for more stories so that she could prolong the moment. He made her feel safe – not just because he was a vampire and could spirit her away to the next county in the blink of an eye – but because he made her feel like she was an active participant in her own life rather than at the mercy of the supernatural world as it spun around her.

_And he's easy on the eyes, _she thought as her gaze drifted lower, settling – as it always seemed to – on his mouth. She caught her breath as her heart skipped a beat and her pulse began to skitter frantically through her veins. God, she wanted to kiss him. Just once. Just once, she wanted to know what it was like to really kiss Damon Salvatore.

_Except it would never be just once, _she thought as he squeezed her hand and she suddenly realized he could feel – and hear – every single erratic beat of her heart. Swallowing, she pulled her hand from his as heat blossomed on her cheeks. Forcing her lungs to function, she sat up and drew her knees to her chest, berating herself for ruining the moment. They were friends, a team, working together to get Stefan back and she really did love Stefan, even if, at the moment, she couldn't picture his face – couldn't picture anything but Damon's blue eyes.

_Ceasefire, my ass, _she thought, staring desperately out at the tree and rooftops as if they might hold the answers to questions she didn't know how to ask. A sudden breeze stirred the loose tendrils of hair at the base of her neck, making her shiver as goose bumps rose on her bare skin. Before she could rub her arms to warm herself back up, Damon was there, throwing his jacket over her shoulders.

"Damon," she protested breathlessly as his scent washed over her. "I'm fine, you don't need to-."

"You do not tell a Southern boy not to give a lady his jacket when she's cold," he said, squeezing her shoulders for emphasis before stretching out on the roof once again and turning his attention back to the sky. Biting her lip to hide her smile, Elena slipped her arms though the sleeves, closing her eyes and taking a deep breath.

Jesus, he smelled good.

_Ceasefire, _she chided herself, gritting her teeth in frustration as she stared out at the treetops. Several long moments passed as she scolded herself and waited for her agitated nerves to calm down. _Friends, _she thought, she and Damon were friends and they had a job to do. Saving Stefan was more important to both of them than the awareness, the ever-present sexual tension, the _rest. _They'd put that shit aside – to be dealt with later – and Damon wasn't having any problems remembering that, so why was she?

Looking over her shoulder, she found him lying on his back, staring up at the sky, seemingly oblivious to her presence. _I can do this, _she thought, swallowing as she tugged up the collar of his jacket and lay down next to him. He'd been such a good friendto her since Stefan had left that the last thing he deserved was having his head fucked with because she was drunk, lonely and weak.

_Just be his friend, _she thought, following his eyes had adjusted to the darkness, making it possible for her to see more stars than usual in the heavens. The tiny pinpricks of light were so thick that she could barely make out the Big Dipper.

"What are you doing?" Elena whispered, glancing at Damon out of the corner of her eye. He'd been staring intently at the stars the entire time they'd been on the roof, like he was looking for something.

"Shopping for tea cozies."

Making a face, she pulled the collar away from her mouth. "Damon."

"What does it look like I'm doing?" he scoffed, raising his hand toward the sky. "I'm looking at the stars. finding constellations. Like…that one. That's Delphinus. The dolphin. It helped Poseidon find a mermaid named Amphitrite and as a reward he put it up into the sky with the stars."

Grateful for the distraction, Elena shifted closer to him, following his line of sight. It took her a moment, but a shape began to stand out amidst the stars. "It looks like a kite."

"Use your imagination, Gilbert," he admonished, nudging her with his elbow. Narrowing her eyes, she concentrated and gradually the smattering of stars began to resemble an animal.

"I think I see it," she said, pleased with herself for finding the dolphin and for keeping a grip on her tumultuous emotions. A cool gust of wind washed over them, prompting her to burrow even deeper into Damon's jacket as she smirked. "You know, sometimes I forget."

"Forget what?"

"That you're really old," she teased, earning her another pointed look and a raised brow as he turned away from the sky. Propping herself up on her elbow, she reached across him and grabbed the flask of bourbon. "And kind of a nerd."

"I could leave you up here, you know," Damon threatened as she removed the lid and took another shot of alcohol. "And make you figure out how to get down on your own."

"You won't," she replied with a smile, wiping away an errant drop of bourbon from the corner of her mouth before settling back down next to him. "Tell me more."

Heaving a melodramatic sigh, he snatched the flask from her and took a sip of his own as he scanned the heavens. Pointing at another cluster of stars, he said. "That is Aquila, the eagle that carried Ganymede to Olympus."

"I don't…" Elena murmured, squinting up at the sky as she shifted even closer, bringing her nearly cheek-to-cheek with Damon. Raising her own arm, she tried to mimic his movements, searching amidst the thick blanket of tiny lights to find the ones that formed the shape of an eagle. "I don't see it."

"Here," he said, covering her hand with his as he guided it toward the right stars, explaining the constellations origin at the same time. "Apparently, Zeus fell in love with Ganymede, a mortal, and brought him to the heavens to serve as his cupbearer."

"He fell in love with him and made him a servant?" Elena asked, as her finger traced out a shape in the sky that gradually began to resemble a bird in flight under Damon's gentle guidance. "I thought Zeus was like, the king of the gods, couldn't he have gotten his lover a better job?"

"I think cupbearer was actually a pretty big deal," he replied with a chuckle as he released her hand and propped an arm behind his head. "But Zeus had a tendency to fall in love with anything that moved in his line of sight, so there probably weren't many job openings."

In control of her emotions again, she snickered, pleased that she'd managed to squash the bright flare of nearly overwhelming desire that had momentarily threatened their truce. Raising his arm, Damon pointed out another set of stars. "That's Capricornus."

"As in the Zodiac?" Elena asked watching him rather than the stars as he revealed the constellation's back story. She lost track of the time as he pointed out one cluster of stars after another – Sagitta, the emblem of Diana and Apollo and Pavo, which was Latin for _peacock_. Pleasantly buzzed, she listened to every word, sharing the flask with him until her eyelids fluttered closed and her head felt too heavy to lift off of his shoulder. The last thing she remembered before she drifted off to sleep was something about a beautiful Queen named Cassiopeia and her pet swan Cygnus.

Elena woke up the next morning, surrounded by Damon's familiar scent, as her cell phone alarm beeped in an annoying chorus with the birds chirping loudly in the trees. Groping blindly, she found the offending device on the pillow next to her head and silenced it. Prying her eyes open, she winced against the sun streaming through her bedroom window as the dull headache of a hangover made her head throb, proving that her drunken rooftop adventure with Damon hadn't been a dream.

Groaning, she rolled over onto her side, putting her back to the offending sunlight. Opening her eyes to slits, she checked the time and uttered a curse. School was going to be a bitch and Alaric would never let her hear the end of it if she showed up to his class with a hangover.

The hypocrite.

She couldn't help but smile, however, as she promised herself just five more minutes and pulled a pillow over her head. She'd had fun the night before – real fun that hadn't been tainted by anything even remotely supernatural. After she'd fallen sleep – or more likely passed out – Damon had brought her back inside, tucked her into bed and set her cell phone alarm so she wouldn't be late.

He'd even left her a glass of water and a couple of aspirin on her nightstand.

Best of all, he'd let her keep his jacket.


End file.
